For two days, I waited for Madhu, my heart restless, but she didn’t come. The ache inside me was unbearable, yet I couldn’t share it with anyone. By the third day, I was done waiting. That evening, I knocked back a couple of drinks and stumbled home around 9 PM. As I entered the bedroom, my breath caught—Madhu was sprawled across the bed, asleep, draped in a stunning pink saree. Her long hair fanned out, her curves accentuated by the tight blouse, glowing under the soft night bulb. She looked like a goddess. I tossed my bag aside, washed my face and hands, changed into just a vest and underwear, locked the front door, and went straight to her. I leaned down, pressing my lips to hers, stealing four or five deep kisses. The warmth of her lips stirred her awake, and with that, I fulfilled the promise she’d asked of me.
As I kissed her, she turned her face toward me, her eyes soft and sleepy. The clock read 9:15 PM. I started climbing onto the bed when she murmured, “Papa, I made dinner. Let’s eat first. I haven’t eaten either.” She handed me the TV remote and slipped off to the kitchen, her saree swishing with every step. I watched her hips sway, unable to look away. We ate together—simple dal, rice, and veggies—but sharing that meal with her felt intimate, special. Afterward, we returned to the bedroom and lay down. The heat was stifling, so I stayed in my vest and underwear. Madhu, still in her pink saree, looked radiant. The fan spun at full speed, and though it wasn’t raining, flashes of lightning lit up the sky outside, mirroring the storm brewing inside me.
Around 10 PM, Madhu turned onto her side, facing away from me. I slid closer, resting my hand on her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her skin through the saree. I inched even closer, my breath grazing her neck. “Madhu, what’re you thinking about?” I whispered.
Her voice was soft, tinged with sadness. “Papa, this bed belongs to Mom.”
Her words tugged at my heart. I pulled her into my arms, kissing her forehead gently. “Don’t worry, Madhu. We’ll deal with it when she’s back.” My hands wandered to her soft, 34-inch breasts, pressing them gently through her blouse. Her breathing quickened. “Madhu, should I turn on the big light?” I asked.
She blushed, eyes lowered. “Whatever you want, Papa.”
I got up and flicked on the CFL, bathing the room in bright light. Madhu’s face glowed, but her eyes stayed downcast, as if wrestling with her emotions. I kissed her again, deeper this time, and she started to cry. I panicked, wrapping her in my arms. “What’s wrong, Madhu? Tell me.”
She sobbed, her tears glistening. “Papa, you’re so good to me. Why did our relationship turn like this? Is this wrong?”
I tried to comfort her. “Listen, Madhu. I’m not happy with your mom. We haven’t been intimate in over a year. And I love you so much. You’re young, beautiful, and… you’re the only one who can satisfy my needs. The moment was right, we were alone, and that’s why this happened.”
She was quiet, then whispered, “Papa, I’m not your daughter anymore, and I can’t be your wife. You’ve always loved and protected me like a daughter, but now you’re using me like a wife. What do I do?”
Her words left me speechless. I had no answers, so I kissed away her tears, because Madhu had become my everything. To quiet her, I took her lips in mine, losing myself in a deep, hungry kiss. She whispered, “Papa, promise me you’ll treat me like your wife until Mom comes back. Mark every inch of my body with your love.” Her voice trembled with desire. Then, in a sultry tone, she added, “You want to see my body, don’t you? Here I am, in your arms, on your bed. Tonight, you’ll make me pregnant, won’t you?” She buried her face in my chest, hiding her flushed cheeks.
My hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer. She noticed my state and said, “Papa, you’ve been drinking again, haven’t you? I told you not to. If you keep this up, you’ll lose me.”
I apologized, “Sorry, Madhu. It won’t happen again.” I reached for her bra hooks, only to find she wasn’t wearing one. She giggled, “What’re you looking for, Papa?”
“Nothing,” I mumbled, embarrassed. My right hand moved to her hips, sliding lower. “How do I look in this saree, Papa?” she asked, her voice teasing.
“Madhu, you’re breathtaking. I don’t even know how to praise you.” My hands felt the heat of her round, 36-inch ass, squeezing it gently through the saree. She pressed herself closer. I tried slipping my hand inside her blouse, but it was too tight. My hand slid lower instead, lifting her saree and petticoat. My fingers found her bare, warm ass, sinking into her soft flesh. My other hand stroked her long, silky hair.
I couldn’t hold back anymore. I turned her to face me and climbed on top, unbuttoning her blouse. Her 34-inch breasts spilled out, firm and perfect, with pink nipples begging for attention. I stared, mesmerized, before sucking each one, swirling my tongue around them. Madhu’s chest heaved, “Ohhh… Papa…” Her moans drove me wild. I kissed her cheeks, then slowly unraveled her saree, tossing it aside. She lay there in just her petticoat and open blouse, her body a vision of curves. My hands wouldn’t stop. I wanted to see every inch of her 34-26-36 figure. Finally, I peeled off her blouse and petticoat, leaving her naked before me.
God, her milky skin glowed in the light. She looked like a goddess of desire. I stared for a good 20-25 seconds, drinking in her beauty. Then I rolled her over on the bed, my lips tracing her body from her neck to her navel. Her breasts bounced with each movement, and I couldn’t resist sucking them again. I shed my vest, and Madhu’s eyes locked onto my underwear, where my 7-inch cock was already straining. I pulled her close, my chest hair brushing against her nipples, making her shiver. We melted into each other, bodies pressed tight.
Her hands crept toward my underwear, her fingers grazing my cock. I felt the pressure as she stroked it through the fabric. “Papa, don’t make me wait,” she whispered, her voice thick with lust. She tugged my underwear down, wrapping her fingers around my 2-inch-thick cock, gripping it like a prize. I stayed silent, watching her desire ignite. She slid my underwear to my knees, and I kicked it off. She stared at my cock, measuring its girth with her fingers and thumb, leaving a small gap.
I lay back, letting her take control. “What’re you looking at, Madhu?” I teased.
She smirked, unashamed. “Papa, your cock is so thick… so big… fuck!”
She started stroking it, kissing the tip, her tongue circling my pink head. Her warm breath and soft lips made pre-cum leak from my cock. She slid the skin up and down, her touch electric. “Papa, how does this even fit in your pants?” she asked, her voice dripping with mischief.
I grinned, “Like it fit inside you last Saturday night.”
She pouted, “You’re so dirty!”
“How’s it feel, Madhu?” I asked.
She leaned closer, her breath hot against my cock. “If it didn’t feel so fucking good, would I be holding it like this?” She took my cockhead in her mouth, sucking hard, “Slurp… slurp…” Her saliva dripped down to the base, her hair tickling my stomach and thighs. I closed my eyes, lost in the sensation.
I slid my hands under her thighs, lifting her round ass to my chest. Her pussy’s musky scent hit me, driving me wild. I propped her ass up, her wet slit right in front of me, like paradise unveiled. Her asshole twitched, and I couldn’t stop staring at her thick, juicy pussy lips. Her 3-inch-long slit glistened with her juices. I saw droplets on her clit—she was soaked, consumed by lust. I lowered her ass and lapped at her pussy, “Lick… lick…” Madhu squirmed, grinding her hips, “Ohhh… Papa… fuck… more…” She wanted all my attention on her pussy.
She pressed her cunt against my mouth, rubbing it hard, “Uhhh… Papa… yes… yes…” Her sparse pubic hair pricked my cheeks, but I was too lost in her taste to care. I spread her ass cheeks, burying my face between them, my tongue teasing her asshole. She lifted her hips, moaning, “Ohhh… Papa… that feels so good… uhhh…” Her pussy juices were intoxicating. I wet my finger with spit and circled her asshole gently. She turned her head, eyes wide with a mix of shock and pleasure, “Papa… what’re you… ohhh…” She started rubbing her clit, her fingers frantic. The rain outside poured harder, fueling our heat.
I laid her down, staring into her eyes. She was fixated on my throbbing 7-inch cock. I ran my hand over her wet pussy, feeling its heat. I lifted her legs, spreading them wide, and rubbed my cock against her slit. “Papa… slow… please…” she moaned. I positioned my cockhead at her entrance, pushed gently, then thrust hard, “Thwack!” She cried out, “Aahhh… Papa… it’s too big… ohhh…” Her tight pussy gripped my cock like a vice. I started slow, “Thud… thud…” the sound of our bodies echoing in the room.
“Ohhh… Papa… slow… your cock’s so fucking big… aahhh…” Madhu moaned, her voice trembling. I pushed deeper, 6 inches buried in her tight cunt, thrusting harder, “Thud… thud… thud…” She tried to push me back, “Papa… wait… it hurts… ohhh…” But I was relentless, determined to fuck her deeper than ever. I sped up, “Thwack… thwack…” her pussy juices coating my cock. I leaned down, sucking her 34-inch tits, biting her nipples gently. She gasped, “Uhhh… Papa… fuck… what’re you doing… aahhh…”
I fucked her for 8 minutes straight, her moans filling the room, “Aahhh… Papa… more… harder…” I pulled out, my cock slick and shining. I flipped her into doggy style, her ass raised high, her 36-inch cheeks begging for me. I gripped her hips and slid my cock back in, “Thwack!” She screamed, “Aahhh… Papa… so deep… ohhh…” I pounded her hard, “Thud… thud… thud…” her moans growing louder, “Aahhh… Papa… fuck me… uhhh…” I was a beast, her tight pussy driving me wild. The rain drowned out her cries, blending with the rhythm of our fucking.
“Papa… pick me up…” she begged. I pulled her off the bed, lifting her into my arms. She wrapped her legs around my hips, and I positioned my cock at her pussy, lowering her onto it. She gasped, “Aahhh… Papa… ohhh…” Her arms locked around my neck, her 36-inch ass in my hands. I bounced her up and down, “Thwack… thwack…” her hair flying wildly. “How deep is it, Madhu?” I growled.
Her pussy clamped my balls, and she bit my lips, “Papa… it’s so fucking deep… aahhh…” It felt like my cock was hitting her womb. She moaned, “Uhhh… Papa… more… ohhh…”
I fucked her in my arms for 5 minutes, her weight pressing down on my cock. Her tight pussy was too much. I laid her back on the bed, collapsing beside her, exhausted. But her eyes burned with lust. She straddled me, spreading her legs over mine, her wet pussy hovering above my cock. She lowered herself slowly, guiding my cock to her entrance, “Ohhh…” and sank down, “Thwack!” She placed her hands on my chest, rocking her hips, “Thud… thud…” I watched her take control, fucking me with abandon. She leaned back, bouncing her ass up and down, “Aahhh… Papa… so good… uhhh…” I grabbed her 34-inch tits, pinching her nipples. Her moans grew wilder, “Ohhh… Papa… fuck… more…”
After 7 minutes, she collapsed onto my cock, her pussy gushing around it, “Aahhh… Papa… I’m cumming…” I thrust up hard, “Thud… thud…” lifting my hips 8-9 inches off the bed. My balls slapped her asshole, and after 5-6 seconds, I exploded, filling her pussy with my cum, “Thwack… thwack…” She collapsed on my chest, my cock softening inside her. Our bodies were slick with sweat and cum, her hair covering my face. We panted, catching our breath.
Three minutes later, she whispered, “Papa, your cock broke me. My body’s yours whenever you want it.” We kissed, lost in each other, until sleep took over.
What did you think of this steamy tale? How should Madhu and her papa’s forbidden passion unfold next? Share your thoughts in the comments!